


Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

by keylore



Category: Baldi's Basics (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hair, Obsessive thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keylore/pseuds/keylore
Summary: The Principal couldn’t stop thinking about that one hair that was sticking out of Baldi’s head.And it was going to drive him nuts.





	Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

There was that one lone hair sticking out of Baldi’s head, just a little further away from the brows and perfectly centered.

And the Principal couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He wouldn’t call it a fixation, it was more like a, well, a hobby. A hobby he’d dedicated a lot of time to. 

It had all started weeks ago, six, to be precise. Baldi had been getting ready for a field trip, his backpack slung over a shoulder, fiddling with the hat in his hands as he went over some last-minute details with the Principal.

”...No, it doesn’t bother much, it’s easy to scare away, and...” Baldi had glanced at the clock, ”...Ooh, I’d better get going. Have a nice day, sir!”

Baldi had slipped the other strap of his backpack on and twirled the hat in his hands with a playful whistle before slipping it onto his head. It hadn’t gone as intended; the rim of the hat smoothed down that single hair against Baldi’s face, tickling the space between his brows.

The Principal had never paid much attention to Baldi’s hair, but something about that moment, as mundane and little it was, had captivated him. He had just stared as Baldi scrunched his nose at the itching sensation, scritching at the offending spot with a finger before tucking the hair away under the hat.

”I’ll see you later, sir,” Baldi had said, giving the Principal a little wave before strolling out.

’Does that happen to him often?’ was the only the thing the Principal could think about for a while.

———

That single thought ended up snowballing, bringing with it more thoughts and musings that bothered him daily. Had Baldi always had just one hair? Did it ever annoy him so much he’d considered getting rid of it? Maybe he once had a full head of luscious locks before something happened to them, leaving behind the lone survivor.

...Actually, he couldn’t imagine Baldi having more hair.

The Principal began to steal glances at Baldi whenever the other man was distracted; each new observation about that one strand of hair fueled his thoughts.

He’d seen it sway in the breeze during a windy day while Baldi watched over the kids during recess. The wind occasionally changed direction, blowing the hair against Baldi’s head in a manner that made him casually scratch at the itch. Wasn’t that irritating? Was keeping the hair worth it to have it tickle him every time the wind blew right at his face?

The Principal had noticed that Baldi followed a certain order whenever the rain caught him off guard: the hair always came first. Baldi would enter a faculty room, soaking wet, dripping water all over the floor with every step. 

And then there was the hair, as wet as the rest of him, clinging onto skin.

If the Principal happened to be present at those times, Baldi would apologize for the mess before reaching for a paper towel. He’d use it to wring the hair dry, letting the squeezed out droplets of water hit the floor with quiet thwips. Once he was done, he’d wait a moment as the hair rose back up, giving it a little tap just to ensure it was in its usual position. He’d tend to his clothes right after that. No matter how much he was shivering in cold and damp clothing that hugged his body tight, the hair was always the number one priority. So, it held a great deal of importance to him, more than other pressing matters. Hmm.

One day, Baldi had showed up to school with the hair just a teeny tiny shorter than before. Ah, Baldi did cut it every now and then. Interesting.

What weren’t interesting were the intrusive thoughts, the ones that struck him out of the blue and left him feeling ashamed of the vile ideas his brain cooked up. Sometimes, when having friendly chats with Baldi, he would realize how close Baldi was standing to him, how much Baldi trusted him.

_How vulnerable Baldi was._

So a little voice in his head would whisper, ’Yank the hair out, do it, it’s right there. Tear it out.’

He was able to ignore the urge because he wasn’t an impulsive man.

But then it started happening in other situations. Whenever he stumbled upon Baldi snoring at his desk, all drained out from a long school week, his brain yelled at him to reach over and pluck the hair out. _Do it, do it, do it, you need the peace of mind._

It was the same thing when he had to lead Baldi away from the halls to the safety of the faculty room after someone decided to play that wretched tape again. Baldi’s limbs jerked around here and there at random because of a confused brain that issued new commands before Baldi could even fulfill the old ones. Even his eyes were blinking out of sync. The Principal’s foremost thought, way before the ones involving the need to locate and stop the tape, wasn’t pretty: ’ _He’s defenseless, yank it out now._ ’

He hadn’t obeyed that urge either, because he wasn’t an impulsive man, and he wasn’t going to become one. _Hopefully._

But it didn’t mean he was invulnerable to the creations of his own mind. He didn’t ask for the thoughts, he didn’t enjoy them, nor did he want to endure more of them in the future. He couldn’t open up to anyone about the bizarre ideas that were threatening to eat him up from the inside.

Would the hair grow back? Or would Baldi be doomed to remain bald? Would he mind it, would he mind being unable to grow it back, would it be possible to destroy the hair follicle so there’d no chance of the hair ever growing again, would—

If only he’d be able to stop thinking about it. He wanted to tell his brain to quit it, stop it already, p—

”Sir?”

”...Huh?” 

A hand on his wrist pulled him back to reality, and his eyes flickered from the wrist to Baldi’s face, the teacher’s brows furrowed in worry.

”...Are you alright, sir? You’ve been staring at that paper for a while now.”

The Principal glanced back at the paper, blinking. Ah, right, he was writing down notes and ideas for the next school event while Baldi was grading papers. Actually, no, he couldn’t say he’d been writing; the paper was blank. He hadn’t even managed to draw a single line before he’d let his mind wander.

_He was a mess._

The Principal’s tongue darted out to wet his lips that suddenly felt too dry. ”I’m fine, Professor Baldi,” _an utter lie_ , ”I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

Baldi withdrew his hand to tap a finger against a paper he wasn’t done grading, not convinced by the Principal’s reply. ”I don’t mean to pry, sir, but... is everything alright? You’ve been kiiinda distracted lately. Actually, not kinda, more like veeery distracted. Do you want to talk about it?”

_’Nothing is alright, I can’t stop thinking about your hair, and truth to be told, I’ve been daydreaming about ripping that hair out for weeks now. And I’m thinking about it again.’_

That’s what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He could word his problem in a way that sounded less worrisome.

He knew he shouldn’t talk about it, he could just lie and be done with it, but he was afraid that eventually things would come to that point where he’d end up following his impulses and yank out—

_You’re doing it again._

”It’s that,” he pointed at Baldi, prompting the teacher to point at himself.

Baldi frowned. ”Me?”

”No, a little further up, more—” the Principal instructed, and Baldi’s finger turned towards his lone hair, ”yes, that’s it.”

”...This?”

”Yes, that. Do you ever... do you ever think about something happening to it? Like, maybe one day you’d go completely bald.”

His voice may have been monotone, but he was everything but calm. His heart was hammering against his ribcage, and he touched his face that felt too warm for comfort, his fingers dipping into a fine coat of sweat. When had he started sweating? He must’ve looked like a deranged mess to Baldi.

Baldi touched the hair, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he threw his head back, breaking into a nasal laughter. The Principal stared at him in confusion as the joyful sound echoed around the room.

It took a moment before Baldi calmed down. ”Oh, sir,” he wiped a tear away with a thumb, ”that’s what you’ve been worried about?” his voice held no animosity, only mirth. ”How long have you been thinking about it?”

Too long. ”Weeks.”

”Sir. Principal,” Baldi’s face momentarily hardened. ”You know you could’ve asked me anytime, riiiight? I don’t get mad about it,” his expression softened. ”So...” the Principal watched Baldi grab the hair, gently rubbing it between his fingers. ”I don’t pay any thought to anything happening to it. It’s nice and I like it, but it’s nothing to worry about. Maaaaaybe I’ll lose it someday, maybe it’s here to stay. Who knows?”

 _’I’d want to know_ ,’ the Principal thought, but ended up asking, ”Have you ever plucked it off?”

Baldi pondered about it for a second before shrugging. ”A couple of times before you employed me, sir.”

So, years ago, then.

”...Would you like to give it a go, sir?” Baldi let go of his hair, leaning towards the Principal’s space with his usual wide smile.

”...What?”

”Do you want to pull it out? It’d be a fifty-fifty chance to see whether it grows back or not. Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” 

There was a brief period of silence while the Principal waited for the teacher to go ”Aha! Got you! I’m just joking!” and give him a strong, playful slap on the back like the ones you’d give to a friend to assure they’d been victims of a harmless prank.

But none of that came. The smile stayed on Baldi’s lips, unwavering.

”You’re serious,” a cold, heavy weight settled in his stomach. He felt nauseous.

”Aaaas a heart attack. Come on, give it a try. Don’t be shy!”

The Principal swallowed, reaching out with a shaky hand, earning a ”Thaaat’s it, you’re doing great,” from Baldi.

_This was it, huh? This was really it, he was going to get to touch it, he was going to— to—_

He took a quivering breath, his hands breaking out in cold sweat; he was getting sweat everywhere - not good at all - his fingers smearing it over Baldi’s forehead too in a clumsy attempt to clutch the hair.

”Just relaaax,” Baldi told him, his eyes following the path of the hand over him.

His hand felt tingly as he finally caught hold of the hair, twirling it between a thumb and index: it felt thicker than it looked. He licked his lips again, winding the hair around his finger. It was long enough to curl around the digit two times.

_The Principal was touching it, he was finally touching it, the target of his many troubled thoughts. It was around his finger._

”Good, now give it a pull,” Baldi smiled. ”Go on.”

And he did as he was told: he gave it a good tug.

Nothing.

Save for Baldi’s little exclamation of ”ouch”, nothing major happened. There was just a slight stretch to the hair before it had pulled back to the scalp, refusing to budge from its spot on Baldi’s head.

And then it hit him: he’d tried it, he’d tried to rip out Baldi’s hair, all because of some silly ideas that had plagued him for weeks, and Baldi allowed him to try it. Baldi was okay with it.

”Ohoh, it’s a stubborn one. Do you want to try it again?”

He didn’t, he really didn’t. Right at that moment, it was like all the tension that had been building up inside of him for weeks had reached its peak, resulting not in a bang, but a shuddering sigh that slipped past his lips. He recoiled away from Baldi, letting go of the hair to slump back in his chair like a puppet whose strings had been cut, staring down at his hands. _He was awful._

Baldi waited until he heard the Principal’s heart slow to a steadier pace before he spoke up. ”...How do you feel? Are you feeling any better?”

He felt... he felt... 

The Principal met Baldi’s eyes with a tired smile. His head hadn’t felt this clear in weeks; it was like that little tug had wiped his brain clean from all of those frenzied thoughts. How odd, but he wasn’t going to question it.

”I feel better now. I haven’t felt this good in ages, I think.”

Baldi reached out to give his shoulder a firm squeeze, absolutely beaming. ”Faaantastic! Are you sure you don’t want to...?” he trailed off, gesturing towards the hair.

”Very sure,” there was a noticeable tint of relief and cheer in the Principal’s voice. ”Thank you.”

Things returned back to normal; he didn’t think about Baldi’s hair anymore, he didn’t steal glances at it, nor did he have to struggle with the urge to yank it out. 

There was a little change that stayed, a little, harmless one: he could still tell when Baldi had cut his hair, a detail so minor it went unnoticed by the co-workers and students, but not by him.

He would compliment it before he went on with his day. 

He was glad for the peace of mind, welcoming it with open arms.

Hopefully, it was here to stay.


End file.
